The tense yet excited atmosphere lingered throughout the entire school until evening.
When the bell for the last class rang, the students hurried back to their common rooms, dropped off their bags, threw on their cloaks, and rushed to the Entrance Hall.
The heads of each House were busy making sure their students didn't embarrass themselves in front of visitors from other schools due to improper attire.
"Weasley, straighten your hat," Professor McGonagall said sternly. "Norton, hats go on your head, not your backside. And you, Patil, take that ridiculous thing out of your hair."
Parvati plucked the oversized bow from her braid, while Ron and Cohen made a half-hearted show of adjusting their hats—only to put them back the way they were once McGonagall turned to inspect other students.
"It's almost six," Ron said, checking his watch. "How do you think they'll arrive? Train?"
"If it were me, I'd come on a dragon—definitely makes a bold entrance," Cohen replied. "Speaking of which, every time someone calls my last name, I get this weird sense of déjà vu…"
"What's with Norton?" Harry asked.
"They'd get arrested by the International Confederation of Wizards if they showed up on a dragon," Hermione said with a frown. "They'll probably use something a bit more… legal."
"Wait, even schools can't keep dragons?" Cohen sighed. "The Ministry's such a buzzkill."
"You're starting to sound more and more like Hagrid with your love for magical creatures," Ron said, half-jokingly. "Don't tell me you're the one who told Hagrid what Blast-Ended Skrewts like to eat…"
Well, Cohen wasn't the one who told Hagrid what Skrewts liked to eat—mainly because the hundred or so he had in his trunk had already ended up as food for the little Basilisk and Norbert.
Not that the basilisk had any rave reviews either. It said the Skrewts "tasted like burning mud."
By now, the sunset had vanished from the sky, and stars were beginning to peek out from the darkening night.
Then, a few moving points of light appeared in the sky.
"Ah! If I'm not mistaken, the Beauxbatons delegation has arrived!" Dumbledore called from the back of the crowd.
"Where? Where?" Students buzzed with excitement, eyes darting around in search of the Beauxbatons' arrival.
Finally, someone pointed toward the Forbidden Forest.
A massive shadow—like a moving house—was flying over the forest, heading toward the castle.
"It's a dragon!" a first-year Gryffindor shouted excitedly.
"Dragons aren't that boxy," Cohen corrected the kid. "That's a carriage."
"What kind of carriage is that big?!" Dennis Creevey cried. "It's like a house flying in the sky!"
Of course, none of the students' wild guesses could beat Cohen's spoiler-level insight—the truth was, the Beauxbatons' mode of transportation was a gigantic carriage.
It was drawn by twelve enormous winged horses, with golden manes, silvery-white wings, and eyes that glowed like embers.
Everything seemed perfectly normal as the carriage descended toward the ground—at least until those horses noticed Cohen.
By all logic, magical creatures of the hoofed variety should've mistaken Cohen for a unicorn.
But evidently, Beauxbatons' Abraxans were observant to an almost supernatural degree.
Just as one of the Beauxbatons students disembarked to open the carriage door, the horses began stomping their hooves nervously, snorting, and flapping their wings in a panic, startling the poor student.
"AAAAHHHHHH!" the boy in the light blue robes jumped back into the carriage in fright as the giant horses skittered and snorted.
The Hogwarts students let out a collective gasp, stepping back out of caution—getting trampled by those beasts wouldn't end well for anyone.
"What just happened?" Hermione gasped, covering her mouth.
"Are they always this aggressive?" Ron shrank back.
Harry turned to look at Cohen.
"Don't look at me! It's not like I meant to scare them," Cohen said defensively.
Dumbledore, as if only just realizing the situation, glanced over his students—his eyes briefly and subtly resting on Cohen—then smacked his forehead theatrically, prompting Professor McGonagall to clear her throat in annoyance.
He quietly cast a silent spell in Cohen's direction, masking the scent of fear and curse energy that lingered around him.
The horses gradually calmed down after that.
"I'll take care of it," a steady female voice called from within the carriage.
Then the door opened, and a golden staircase unfurled automatically to the ground.
The first thing to emerge was a black high-heeled shoe—about the size of a child's sled—followed by a towering woman.
She had a striking olive complexion and wore her hair in a shiny bun at the nape of her neck. Her black satin gown gleamed under the light, and her hands were adorned with sparkling opal jewelry.
"Tais-toi." ("Quiet.") she snapped at the horses, even though they had already settled down.
"Madame Maxime, my dear, welcome to Hogwarts," Dumbledore said, stepping forward to lead the applause, as though the previous chaos had never occurred.
Madame Maxime's stern expression softened into a gracious smile as she extended her hand to Dumbledore.
He kissed it politely—without bending down, despite being tall himself.
That alone was enough to confirm her half-giant heritage, though she never admitted it. For more chapters visit NovєlFіre.net
"Dumbledore," she greeted him cordially. "I hope all is well with you."
She then introduced her students.
She had brought a dozen or so boys and girls with her—clearly Beauxbatons' top students. After all, this was an international tournament, and only the best could participate.
"Has Karkaroff arrived yet?" she asked.
"He'll be here any moment," Dumbledore replied. "Would you prefer to wait out here for him, or head inside to warm up?"
Madame Maxime noticed her students shivering in the chilly Scottish air—Beauxbatons' silken uniforms offered little protection from the cold—and chose to enter the castle first.
"My Abraxans are rather spirited," she noted. "And they don't seem to be adjusting well to the climate…"
"Our Care of Magical Creatures professor will be happy to look after them," Dumbledore said. "Right after he handles a small… situation."
"What's wrong with Hagrid?" Harry turned to ask Cohen and the others.
"Maybe the Skrewts got loose," Ron suggested with a grin.
"Nope," Cohen said, checking the time mentally. "The first batch of Skrewts is probably about to start mating—but I have a feeling they don't actually know how, so instead their natural aggression will kick in and they'll start fighting instead. Same thing happened with the Skrewts in my trunk, but thankfully the little basilisk helped 'solve' that problem."